


In Febri Veritas

by Schattengestalt



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Fever Dreams, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining John, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattengestalt/pseuds/Schattengestalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Holmes falls ill after the conclusion of an exhausting case, Watson is forced to take care of him. Hidden feelings and longings rise to the surface and threaten to destroy the friendship of the two men... or just change it forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever and Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> Just a two chapter long story about our dear Holmes and Watson. The next chapter will be posted next week or, at the latest, in a couple of weeks. Enjoy!

### Fever and Confusion

I have published the case of The Reigate Puzzle, but I have never gotten around to sharing the whole story with my readers. It has nothing to do with state secrets - since I`m not referring to the affair in which Baron Maupertuis was involved - but to everything that has happened afterwards. I would assure my readers that I haven`t changed any details about the squires of Reigate - and it would be the truth - but I don`t have to bother with it, since this story will never be published. It would be Holmes` and my doom if it was and therefore I only write it down for my private collection - if Holmes doesn`t make me burn it, when he finds it. I`m sure that he hates to read about his own weakness - some would argue that a disease is not a weakness - although nothing would be as it is now if Holmes hadn`t fallen ill after solving a case of international importance.

In The Reigate Puzzle I wrote that Holmes` illness wasn`t serious and that we were back at Baker Street three days after my arrival in Lyon, only to visit my old friend, Colonel Hayter, a week later. Nothing of it was true since our holiday at Hayter`s place was at a later date than I let my readers believe and Holmes` illness had more long lasting consequences than I have let on. But I`m getting ahead of myself here and I`ll try from now on to give an account of the events as they have occurred in chronological order.

 

I was in for a shock, when I entered Holmes` room at the hotel Dulong. A telegram from the hotel had alerted me to Holmes` illness and I had hurried to his side as fast as possible. A day had passed - at most - between the receiving of the telegram and my arrival at the hotel. Despite my haste to come to my friend`s aid, I hadn`t really entertained the thought that Holmes might be seriously ill. In all the years of our friendship, Holmes had never caught any of the nastier diseases I could think of. I couldn`t even remember that he had ever suffered from so much as a cold. He had only ever needed my expertise as a doctor after encounters with criminals. Therefore I had seen Holmes` with a ugly gash at his arm or a laceration on his head, but I had never... seen him in such a bad state as he was now.

 

A gasp escaped my lips as I stepped next to the bed, in which Holmes was lying. His face was of a feverish pink that couldn`t completely cover the ghastly grey ting of the skin underneath the flush. Pearls of sweat glistened on Holmes` forehead and his breathing came in labored pants past his dry and torn lips. Dear God, I thought with a trace of panic, Holmes looked terrible! I knew very well that this wasn`t the best reaction for an experienced doctor and my heart wouldn`t have sped up at the sight of any other patient in such a state, but this was Holmes. My best friend, the most brilliant man I knew, the only consulting detective in the world and the...

 

No, I banned the last thought in the deepest corner of my mind and took a steadying breath. Now, wasn`t the time to panic, just because I hadn`t expected Holmes to be so ill or because I had never seen him so weak before. I was here to help Holmes - as a doctor - and support him - as a friend - and so far I hadn`t acted well on either part.

 

"Holmes," I spoke, not sure if he was asleep - his eyes were closed - and if he had even noticed my entrance. His eyelids fluttered slightly and he turned his head in the direction of my voice, but without opening his eyes completely. "My dear Watson," his voice was hoarse and raspy, but I would never be able to couch how happy I was in this moment to know that Holmes recognized me. "Yes, Holmes, I`m here to take care of you."

 

Carefully I sat down on the edge of the bed and touched my hand to his forehead. It was as I had predicted - hot and sweaty - and it laid out my next tasks for me. Firstly, the fever had to be brought down. Elevated temperature wasn`t bad and could even help the body to fight a disease, but my experience told me that Holmes` fever was much too high to let it run its course unsupervised.

 

"Are you in pain?" I asked as I let my fingers travel to his throat to take his pulse. Holmes` heartbeat was strong and steady, although a little too fast in his lying position. "Everywhere," Holmes eyes finally cracked open. His usually sharp gaze was dulled by fever and pain and my heart clenched at the sight. I would rather have Holmes belittle my intellect every day than for him to look like he was knocking on Death`s door. Still, I forced myself to remain professional, although I couldn`t keep myself from stroking a sweaty strand from his forehead. "Do you have rheumatic pains? A headache? Is your chest hurting when you are breathing?"

 

I could tell that speaking was hard for Holmes, but I had to know exactly what I was dealing with. A bad cold - made worse because Holmes had neglected his body over the duration of the case - I could deal with, but if it was pneumonia or even a more exotic disease - it would be fitting for Holmes to get something unique - I would have to call a specialist. Holmes swallowed a few times, wetting his lips with his tongue - which made it obvious that he had to have at least a sore throat - before he was able to answer me. "My limbs hurt... and my head. No problems... breathing."

 

I nodded and pulled out my notebook to write his symptoms down. So far, they led me to believe that he was suffering from a common cold, but the fever was worrying me. No matter how harmless its cause was, it had to be lowered. "When have you drunk anything for the last time? Eaten?"

 

Holmes furrowed his brow slightly and that was an answer in itself. If my friend had to think about the answer to this question then it had to be some time, since he had gotten any fluids into his body, not to mention meals. I wouldn`t be surprised to learn that Holmes had lived on toast and water for the better part of the last months and I didn`t like that idea - neither as a doctor nor as his friend.

 

"I don`t know."

 

My eyes snapped up to Holmes` as my friend shook his head, an expression of annoyance on his face. He hated to not know anything and I could only imagine how bad Holmes felt if he wasn`t even able to recall the answer to such a simple question. Still, I wouldn`t put it past him to have deleted the last time he had eaten anything. It would be just like him, but dwelling on it wouldn`t speed along his recovery. I heaved a sigh and then decided on the next course of actions. I had brought my medical kit with me and I retrieved the clinical thermometer from it. I was already aware that Holmes` fever had to be high, but I wanted to have an accurate temperature, so that I could see if my later efforts were able to bring it down.

 

"I have to take your temperature, Holmes." His eyes had fallen close again, in the time it had taken me to retrieve my equipment, but now they snapped open once more. If the usual icy blue of my friend`s eyes hadn`t been glassy and dull, I would have laughed at the almost comical way they widened. I didn`t have to be a genius to guess what Holmes was thinking about right now. Maybe, at some other time, I would have teased him a little, but the pathetic state my friend was in, didn`t allow me such actions. I was a professional doctor after all. "Open your mouth and don`t bite on the thermometer, it`s filled with mercury. Try not to fall asleep either, I`ll inform the staff what else I need to speed along your recovery." Holmes didn`t say anything as he opened his mouth and allowed me to put the thermometer under his tongue. His eyes were already half-closed again, but I noticed that he made an effort to stay awake. I just hoped that he would be successful, for another few minutes. Normally, it wasn`t a problem for him to stay up and high alerted all night, but it was obvious that Holmes wouldn`t be able to fight against his body`s needs for much longer this time.

 

Heaving another sigh, I suppressed the urge to stroke his feverish cheek - with my luck, Holmes would remember that action later - and went to fetch one of the staff members. Fortunately, the director of the hotel had ordered one of the housemaids to stay on our floor, in order to act on Holmes` and my every wish and it wasn`t beyond me to take advantage of that. After informing her that we needed lukewarm water with vinegar, cotton towels, tea, soup for Holmes and dinner for myself, I returned to Holmes` room.

 

I almost feared that he had fallen asleep once more, but when I leaned over his still form, Holmes` eyes flattered open. Good, I smiled slightly and retrieved the thermometer carefully from his mouth, only to curse a second later. "Holy mother of... that`s 39 point seven, Holmes! You are practically burning up!"

 

The fever was much too high for a common cold, but I wouldn`t have been as worried as I was, if the man in bed had been anyone else. It wasn`t that I didn`t feel with my patients - I did - but Holmes was much more important to me than someone else and besides... I didn`t know a man, who had less adipose than my friend. I had told Holmes time and time again that he had to eat more when he was working on a case. The lack of reserves would probably slow down his recovery... but Holmes would be restored back to health, that I swore to myself.

 

"I always knew that you would push your body past your limits one day and now I have to figure out how to nurse you back to health!" It was no way of speaking with a patient I was well aware of that - but worry clouded my mind and I would have done something much worse - like kissing Holmes` forehead and telling him that everything would be fine - if I hadn`t chosen these words as an outlet.

 

"Watson," I prepared myself for a Holmes` typical reprimand for my chosen words, but a knock on the door saved me from it. I went to open it and two maids brought a basin with lukewarm water, another carried a whole stack of towels and a trolley table was brought in by a fourth one. If I had had any doubt left how highly the work of my friend was regarded, it would have been erased at this sight. If I asked, they would probably send the medical attendant of the Prime Minister to take care of Holmes and it would be the least they could do after my friend had ruined his health for their case. Still, as long as I thought I was up to the task of taking care of my friend, I wouldn`t ask a stranger to see to Holmes.

 

Calm settled over me as I directed the maids where to put everything. It wasn`t any different from working together with nurses and I could hold onto the familiarity of it. And God only knew, I needed everything I could hold onto if I didn`t want my worries for Holmes to overtake me.

 

"Is there something else, you will need, Doctor Watson?" One of the girls asked as everything was placed where it needed to be and I didn`t even hesitate to answer. "Someone has to fetch Antipyrin or Antifebrin from the chemist`s. I`ll provide the money and..." The girl shook her head, even as she wrote down the names of the medicaments. "The bills for Mr. Holmes` medical treatment will be covered from someone else, Doctor Watson." I didn`t inquire about the name of the person, who was paying for it and only nodded my thanks. It wasn`t important, as long as Holmes recovered.

 

The maids left after I had assured them, that I would be able to handle everything else and I turned my attention back to my friend. Holmes was lying very still, but he startled when I turned back the sheet to apply the first leg compress. "Watson..."

 

I hated how hoarse his voice sounded. Not even after smoking for hours did Holmes ever sound like that. And I admitted freely that I would rather watch him chain-smoking - no matter how often I protested against it - than see him weak in the claws of a fever. "The leg compresses will hopefully help to bring the fever down and I have also ordered Antipyrin or Antifebrin to be brought for you." Talking about medical facts helped me to keep my focus as I pushed Holmes` nightshirt back to his knees to wrap the first wet, linen towel around his calf. Declaredly, it shouldn`t be erotic to wrap towels around your best friend`s leg to decrease his body temperature and I certainly wasn`t getting off on Holmes` illness, but... I had imagined Holmes` naked legs so often by now - in various positions - that it was hard not to be effected at all. 

 

"Antipyrin is on the market since 1883 and Antifebrin is only for purchase since January, but from the reports I have read, they are both very effective. In combination with the leg compresses, I`m sure that you will be better soon." I directed a reassuring smile - the one reserved for patients - at Holmes as I tucked the covers back around him. The compresses would have to come off in ten minutes, otherwise they could play havoc with his circulation. Nevertheless, it was enough time to get some liquids in Holmes... and maybe even something to eat.

 

Wordlessly, I poured tea - fennel - for Holmes and brought the mug and the bowl with soup on a tray to his bedside. Rice soup with chicken, I noted - very nutritive and perfect for sick people - as I sat down on the edge of the bed - the tray placed on the nightstand. "We have to get you hydrated, again. Do you think you can sit up?" Holmes couldn`t and so I slung an arm around his back and brought the mug to his lips as he slowly sipped his tea. Our eyes didn`t meet once while he drunk and I swore to myself that I would never comment on that situation ever again, in order to spare Holmes` dignity. It was bad enough that I would probably never forget how the muscles of his back felt through the thin fabric of the nightshirt or how warm Holmes` breath was as he exhaled slowly.

 

"Very good," I praised him as I put the mug away and reached for the bowl of soup. "It would be great if you are able to eat some of the soup, since your body needs the strength to fight whatever you have caught."

 

"Watson," Holmes` voice was still a little hoarse, although the tea had helped somewhat as he put a hand on my arm. "You don`t have to... do this."

 

The soup was momentarily forgotten as I stared at Holmes. Was he so terrified of being seen ill by me that he would rather have someone else taking care of him? It would make sense and of course, I would abide to his wishes... although I didn`t want to. The imagination that someone else would hold Holmes when he drank or helped him to the bathroom was unbearable. "Of course, I have to do that. I`m your Doctor, remember."

 

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say as Holmes` face fell. "How could I forget... that you are my... Doctor, Watson? You don`t act like... anything else, since you...have arrived. I`m sorry that I`m... such a burden." Usually, Holmes` words would have sounded cynic at such a topic, but right now, he only managed to rasp them out and it made him appear even more helpless.

 

I swallowed hard as I looked down into the feverish eyes of my friend. "You are not a burden, Holmes." A snore that ended in a cough emerged from his throat as he shook his head slightly. "Don`t pretend otherwise, Watson. I might be... ill, but I`m not... stupid. You get out of... your way to be nothing but... professional." Holmes averted his eyes and stared down at the duvet that covered him from neck to toes. "I told them... to call you, because... you are my only... friend, but obviously I miscalculated..."

 

"No!" I shook my head vehemently as Holmes` words finally started to make sense. Without a second thought, I placed my hand on top of his and squeezed it slightly. "I`m your friend, your best friend, it`s just," I took a shaky breath and cursed myself for making Holmes even more uncomfortable, when he was ill, while I tried to find the right words to put his mind at ease, without giving my true feelings away. "I had to act professional, if I hadn`t treated you like any other patient, I would have gone crazy."

 

Blue eyes met mine once more. "Why?"

 

This time, it was my turn to snort as I gave his hand another squeeze. "Because I worry about you, Holmes. A great deal more than I worry about any of my other patients. I`m sorry if I made you feel like a burden and I assure you that I wouldn`t want to be anywhere else than at your side right now."

 

A weak smile turned Holmes` lips up and I was all too aware that I wouldn`t have been allowed to see it, if the fever hadn`t lowered his defenses. I managed a small smile in return and reached for the bowl of soup once more. Holmes allowed me to place the tray on his lap, so that I was able to help him sit up - with an arm around his back - and bring the spoon to his lips with the other hand. If he hadn`t already been flushed from the fever, I was certain that a crimson blush would have covered his cheeks, when he opened his mouth for me to feed him.

 

I knew how he felt, having experienced helplessness and frustration at my own weakness, when I had been wounded in Afghanistan and unable to do so much as sit up on my own. Still, I was sure that the nurses who had changed my dressings and fed me, hadn`t experienced such tender emotions as I experienced with Holmes almost cradled in my arms. Dear God, how was I supposed to care for my friend, when my heart ached with a bitter-sweet pain from such a chaste contact as this?

 

Of course, I thought as I stroked Holmes` back absently and offered him another spoonful of soup, I could still hide my feelings behind my professionalism, but... I didn`t want to hurt Holmes. My friend would certainly be mortified at his confession that he needed me more as a friend than a doctor - when Holmes was back to his old self - and never mention the conversation again. Still, I couldn`t pretend that I had forgotten about it and I would make sure to show Holmes how much I cared for him - at least, as much as was safe for me - until he was well enough to tell me to stop coddling him.

 

"You know, when you are fit again, we should go away on a holiday in the countryside." Holmes only arched an eyebrow at me and accepted another portion of soup. "If you think... you will get me to agree now... you wouldn`t take... advantage of a sick man... would you, Watson?"

 

"It would do you good, Holmes." He shook his head and I didn`t press the matter as I offered him the last bite of soup and then put the tray away on the nightstand. Holmes had eaten more than I had hoped for and he was by far more lucid than I would have thought possible after taking his temperature. Most men would be delirious, but I should counted on Holmes` stubbornness to give into such weakness.

 

"Lay back down," I fluffed up the pillow and led him in a lying position. "I`ll take off the leg compression and when you have taken your medicament, you can go back to sleep."

 

"I hate that... my body is betraying me... like this," Holmes murmured as I tucked the covers back around him after having taken off the towels. His eyes were already half-closed once more and the lines on his face were more pronounced than usual. No matter how lucid Holmes might appear, it was obvious that the fever took a toll on his body. "Maybe, your body wanted to remind you that you can`t exist without it." Usually such a comment would have earned me a lecture about the unimportance of the transport - as Holmes called his body - but this time, my friend didn`t even manage a sneer. "You will be your typical, annoying and brilliant self in no time, I promise." Of my own accord, my hand moved to his - alarming hot - forehead and smoothed his hair, before stroking Holmes` cheek gently.

 

Blue eyes flattered open and I prepared myself for Holmes` anger. I was certain that he would remind me that I didn`t have to act like a worried housewife, just because he had told me to behave like a friend. Though, to my surprise, no words were forthcoming. His eyes kept staring at me wordlessly - surprised and happy in equal parts - and I looked right back at him. This was the most intimate moment that had ever transpired between us. Holmes in bed - looking open and trustingly at me - and my hand connected to his warm skin. A breath caught in my chest as a bitter-sweet ache bloomed in my ribcage. We were so close and yet, I was well aware that it was the closest we would ever get. If one of us were a woman, it would have been acceptable to press a chaste kiss to Holmes` forehead - or even his lips - but as it was that would never happen.

 

Oh, I was well aware that there were men who kissed other men and I wasn`t a hypocrite to pretend that I didn`t belong to them. At least, a part of me was interested in men, while the other part was utterly fascinated by the fairer sex. That was, before I had met Holmes - six years ago - and every other human being had ceased to hold any appeal for me any longer. Yes, Holmes held my heart in his hands - without knowing - and I would never be allowed to tell him about my feelings. Even if I doubted that my friend would hand me over to the authorities, I was also aware that Holmes would never return my feelings. His work was what he lived for. He didn`t handle feelings well and I didn`t want to force him to throw me out of Baker Street and...

 

A knock at the door stopped me from sinking deeper into my darkest fears and I left Holmes` bedside to get the medicament from the maid. She had also provided another tray of tea and a jar with water, which I carried back to Holmes. "Antifebrin shall taste awfully, but it`s also very effective," I informed Holmes as I added twenty drops of the medicament to a spoon.

 

Holmes did neither answer nor protest in any way as I held up his head to give him the medicine and some water to wash it down with. Obviously, his body had decided that it was time to get more rest as his deep breathing suggested. I stroked his forehead one more time, before preparing one of the comfortable armchairs for my watch over my friend and settled down in it with my dinner.

 

OOO

 

"No!"

 

I jerked awake. The room was dark, but for the dim light of a lamp, I had left burning on the coffee table. It took me only a few seconds to recall where I was and why I was there in the first place. The fact that I had fallen asleep in an armchair and another panicked cry from the direction of the bed helped a lot by getting my wits back together.

 

"No, please! No!"

 

Cold dread filled my heart as I got up from my chair and hurried to Holmes` side. He had slept peacefully, when I had last checked on him - a couple of hours ago - but that was a story of the past. My friend was wriggling around on the bed, tangled up in the sheets and obviously fighting against some invisible threat. Sweat glistened on his forehead - visible as I turned on the lamp on the nightstand - and pained breaths escaped his mouth every few seconds. I touched my hand to his forehead, only to have Holmes flinching away so violently that he almost fell out of the bed. "No, don`t!"

 

I had never felt so helpless in my life before as I did now. Yes, I had lain in a military hospital in Afghanistan, without knowing if I was going to survive, but that experience paled in comparison to the horror I felt at seeing Holmes like that. The strongest and most brilliant man, shaken by panic and fear, while caught in a fever induced nightmare.

 

Holmes turned on his back again, his hands stretched out in a defensive gesture as more sweat pearled from his forehead. I knew that I had to wake him, that there was no excuse for just staying there and watching him suffer, but I was frozen to the spot. I couldn`t imagine something more horrible than seeing my friend like that and I was sure that Holmes would be mortified if he ever learned of that episode. Maybe, it would be better if I just made sure that he didn`t hurt himself and allowed the nightmare to end on its own. The brief touch to his forehead had at least confirmed that his temperature hadn`t risen once more. Indeed, the sweating was rather an indicator that the fever was breaking. The nightmare was probably caused by the stress Holmes` body experienced, while fighting his illness. I tried to calm myself with these thoughts, although my mind screamed at me to wake Holmes and take him in my arms, even if my friend would never forgive me such an action. I clenched my fists at my side and forced myself to keep strong as another scream sounded from Holmes.

 

"Not him... Please, not him! John!"

 

I was kneeling on the mattress, before I even registered that my body had moved and put my hands on Holmes` shoulders. It was the wrong move, since my friend only started struggling harder, when my weight restricted his mobility farther. He kicked out with his legs and grabbed one of my wrists with his hands as he tried to break free.

 

"Holmes," I pleaded, a little panicked that my touch hadn`t woken him right away. "Wake up! You are having a nightmare." My words didn`t have any effect as Holmes just kept struggling against my grip and almost managed to throw me off of the bed as he bolted upright in an attempt to get rid of me. Cursing, I moved to straddle Holmes` legs and pinned his wrists next to his head on the pillow as I didn`t fancy to spot a black eye in the morning. Of course, that move only seemed to intensive Holmes` nightmare as heart wrenching whimpers fell from his lips.

 

"Holmes, it`s alright," I tried again, getting desperate when a strangled sob was torn from my friend`s lips. "Please, Holmes," I begged and debated if it would be wise to get some cold water to wake him up. The shock of such a sudden wakening would certainly be more welcome than whatever horrors Holmes lived through in his mind. And I wouldn`t be able to stand watching him much longer - how had I even been able to think of letting the nightmare pass on it`s on?

 

I leaned forwards a little, so that my face was only a few inches away from Holmes - and hoped that I wouldn`t receive a clout for my efforts. "Holmes, it`s I, Watson... John Watson," I added as I recalled how Holmes had called out my Christian name in his sleep. I didn`t dare hoping that my words would make a difference, but my friend grew very still suddenly and gave up his helpless struggles as he gasped for breath.

 

"John?" There wasn`t any time to wonder why Holmes was calling me by my Christian name as I let go of his wrists and stroked his cheek with one hand. My friend leaned into the touch, his eyes still closed and I breathed a small sigh of relief. "Yes, I`m here. You are safe, it`s alright."

 

A shaky breath escaped Holmes` lips and he cracked his eyes open a little as he looked up at me. It was obvious that he wasn`t fully awake yet, since his gaze was still unfocused as it wandered over me. "John, you are unharmed."

 

By now, my name sounded almost familiar, falling from his lips and a small smile passed over my features. I had always dreamed about Holmes calling me by my given name. No matter that these fantasies had involved different scenarios, but the position we found ourselves in right now - I straddling his thighs, while lying in bed with - could have been directly taken from my mind. I was aware that I shouldn`t read too much in Holmes` actions, when he was in delirium, but at the same time, I knew that I would never forget how my name sounded on Holmes` tongue.

 

"They tortured you, before my eyes," Holmes` voice shook with emotions as he extended a hand to touch my face. I allowed him the contact, since it was obvious that my friend needed to convince himself that I was alright. Warmth bloomed in my chest at the thought that Holmes had been so distressed, because his nightmare had been about I being tortured. It proved that my friend cared about me and even if it was never going to be in the way, I cared for him, that knowledge was enough for me.

 

"No one tortured me, Holmes. You had a nightmare, induced by your fever." Wide, blue eyes gazed at me in wonder as Holmes` hand kept exploring my face and I was aware that he wasn`t lucid at all. The gentle smile on my friend`s face wouldn`t exist if Holmes had all his wits about.

 

"They knew how much you mean to me, John and... they wanted to hurt me by hurting you." Holmes` relaxed smile was replaced by a grimace of distress. I feared that he was going to sink into another nightmare and cradled his face in my hands to force Holmes to keep his eyes fixed on me. "No one hurt me, Holmes. I`m fine, really."

 

I didn`t know if my words or my touch calmed him, but at least the tension drained from his features as Holmes relaxed back against the pillow. "Yes, you are fine... my dear boy." To my horror a tear slid down his cheek and wet my finger as Holmes blinked up at me. "I couldn`t live... without you, John. It would be... like living without... my heart."

 

I gasped, my blood rushed through my veins as my heart pounded against my ribcage. Holmes couldn`t mean what I wanted to believe he meant, right? It was impossible - although he didn`t know what he was talking about right now- that Holmes would ever feel like this... for me.

 

"I always wanted to tell you... how much I love you, John." 

 

I was frozen on the spot, unable to do anything as Holmes leaned up and pressed his thin lips against mine. The brief contact sent sparks of fire through my whole body and my lips prickled meaningfully. It was like a dream had come through and... My eyes met Holmes` glassy ones as he smiled sleepily up at me, before his eyelids dropped shut. Right, I reminded myself as Holmes` breath evened out and he sank into a - hopefully - dreamless sleep, my friend had only kissed me because he was ill. The fever had forced Holmes to act so out of character.

 

I took a shaky breath as I climbed off the bed and moved to stand in front of the closed window. After drawing the curtains back, I was able to look out on the dimly lit street in front of the hotel. No people were outside, not even drunkards and the utter silence of the night, made the experience with Holmes even more unrealistic. Yes, I knew that I hadn`t imagined the kiss - although that wouldn`t be the first time - since my lips still tingled, when I touched my fingers to them. Still, it wouldn`t make much of a difference, if I had indeed imagined it, since it wasn`t more tangible than a dream by now, Holmes was still out of my reach and I would be a fool to believe that he had wanted the kiss.

 

Oh, alright - I pressed my head against the cold glass of the window and watched as my breath steamed the glass up - Holmes had wanted to kiss me back then. Some people would argue that dreams reveal our most hidden desires and secrets, especially if we were caught in a delirium and our defenses were lowered It would be nice if I were able to believe in such nonsense as well, but as a doctor it was impossible. I had watched a mother trying to kill her baby, when the fever had wrecked havoc with her mind and a fellow soldier had started speaking with a snake in his delirium. The mother had loved her baby and had been out of her mind with guilt, when she had come back to herself - the baby was unharmed. My fellow soldier had been terrified of snakes since we had arrived in Afghanistan and that hadn`t changed after he had recovered. So, most people acted rather out of character when they were caught in a fever induced dream and I doubted that Holmes was the exception.

 

With a sigh, I drew the curtains closed again and glanced at Holmes` sleeping form in the bed. My friend had certainly acted out of character - I crushed the small hope in my heart with that thought - and Holmes wouldn`t remember anything about that night when he woke up in the morning. It was for the better, I convinced myself as I settled down in my armchair and covered myself with an afghan. I probably wouldn`t be able to go back to sleep tonight, but at least I would be able to watch over Holmes while I tried to forget that the kiss had ever taken place.

 

OOO

 

It wasn`t easy to forget the kiss - the feel of Holmes` dry lips on mine - especially not, when I was forced to spend most of my time in the presence of my friend... Fine, it was impossible to forget the kiss and it was hard not to think of it every few seconds, when my gaze fell on my friend.

 

Holmes had been much better in the morning - 38 point four when I had taken his temperature - and he hadn`t remembered the nightmare... or what had happened afterwards. I pretended that everything was fine, when I ordered breakfast and gave him some more of the Antifebrin. I thought that I was acting perfectly in character, when I took Holmes` half eaten plate away - and told him that he would have to eat something for lunch as well - when my friend`s words shattered that illusion. "What`s wrong, Watson?" His eyes were still tired - his mind probably slowed down by the fever - but his gaze was almost as piercing as ever. A shudder ran down my spine and my lips prickled at the memory of last night even as my heart skipped a beat in fear. Holmes couldn`t possibly be able to read what I was trying to hide from him, could he? I had brushed my teeth and shaved, as well as changed my clothes, before Holmes had even woken up, so there shouldn`t be any evidence of the kiss left. My friend must have picked up on some stupid change in my usual behavior, nothing else.

 

I shook my head as I offered him a cup of tea and then - in a sudden flash of inspiration - I stretched my back and smiled apologetically at Holmes. "My back didn`t like me spending the whole night in the armchair. It`s a little sore, that`s all." Holmes narrowed his eyes as he sipped from his tea and then glanced at the armchair in question. "You should probably get a room for yourself to sleep in." Holmes glanced down at his hands that held the cup of tea. "I don`t want you to ruin your health for my sake, my dear chap."

 

I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from reacting in any way to Holmes` obvious affection for me. It wasn`t the first time that he had called me dear chap and it was perfectly normal between friends. I had to stop reading anything into it, before Holmes was completely back to his old self and able to deduce what was going on in my mind.

 

"I won`t leave you alone, as long as you are ill." Holmes glared at me and I stopped any forthcoming arguments by making a compromise. "I`ll ask the hotel director to bring a stretcher bed to the room. My back should be able to endure that for a week."

 

"A week?!" Holmes` eyes widened in dismay as he echoed my words and if I hadn`t had so much other things on my mind, I would have laughed at his disbelieving look. As it was, I only nodded in confirmation. "Yes, at least a week." I glared at my friend as he made to throw back the blankets. "You are staying in bed, until I say otherwise or it will be even longer than a week until you are fully recovered." Holmes pursed his lips, but no argument came and that was more telling of his condition than anything else. My friend usually hated to stay in bed and follow Doctor`s orders, even when he was seriously injured. Holmes had to feel worse than he let on as he lay back against the pillow and nodded slowly at my words. "You will have to find something to entertain me then, Watson, if you don`t want me to go crazy from boredom."

 

Of its own accord my mind flew back to the kiss and how easy it would be to take Holmes` mind of his illness if I were allowed to... No, these were dangerous thoughts and I shouldn`t entertain them with my friend present, otherwise Holmes would spot my hidden feelings for him faster than I could blink.

 

"I`ll ask the staff where the next bookstore is and bring you something to occupy yourself with," I said instead of announcing that I could lie down with him to keep him busy.

 

"Just none of these stupid adventure stories you are so fond of, my dear boy." I grinned as Holmes slipped off to sleep again and only then did I allow my expression to fall. Dear God, how was I supposed to take care of Holmes for a week, when all I could think of was that one, brief contact of our lips? It would be fine for another couple of days, but then Holmes would start feeling better every day and when he was back to his old, brilliant self, he would certainly notice that something was amiss and...

 

I straightened my back and moved to fetch the director to ask for a stretcher bed and organize some interesting books for Holmes. I had invaded Afghanistan - for Christ`s sake - I should be able to go through a week with my friend, without giving myself away.

 

OOO

 

Somehow I had survived the week. Tiredly, I sank down in my usual armchair at Baker Street - after having unpacked my belongings - and stared into the dancing flames in the fireplace. Holmes hadn`t suffered any relapses after that one fever induced nightmare and he had recovered nicely. Faster than I had expected as well. After a couple of days in bed, I had had to argue with him every couple of hours that he stayed in bed, since Holmes hadn`t accepted that his body needed rest to heal completely.

 

Really, how my friend had lived to his age was a miracle to me, since he didn`t give a damn about his own body. I couldn`t even recall how I had been able to convince him to stay at the hotel for a whole week, before going back to Baker Street. Of course, Holmes would have been fit to travel after less time, but since I had been aware that he wouldn`t take the time to regain his strength - when he was home again - I had insisted on staying.

 

I dragged a wary hand over my face. For the duration of our stay at the hotel, my mind had tortured me with the memory of our kiss time and time again. It was no wonder that Holmes had remarked - more often than not - that I appeared withdrawn. After all, my friend solemnly missed something and I had been the only person in the room with him for a lot of time. It was only logical that he would notice how I tried to keep my distance from him, in order not to make a fatal mistake... like kissing him again!

 

A groan escaped my lips. It had been hard enough to keep my feelings to myself, before, but now - that I knew how Holmes` lips felt on mine- it appeared to be impossible. My gaze wandered through the living-room - over the Persian slipper with Holmes tobacco and the stacks of paper next to the table - only to have my eyes linger on the desk with the chemical equipment. Could I truly stay here?

 

Right now, Holmes wasn`t at home - he had taken off to God knew where right after his return - and I still wasn`t able to get him out of my head. How much worse would it be whenever he sat across from me - smoking his pipe in only his pajamas and dressing grown - and looking at me with friendly eyes?

 

I had the cigarette between my lips and lit, before I had even thought of smoking and the first inhale calmed my nerves a little. When I was halfway through the cigarette I had come to a decision. It wasn`t an easy one, but necessary if I didn`t want to destroy my friendship with Holmes beyond repair.

 

I had to move out!


	2. Heat and Lucidity

"I can't stand it any longer, Watson!"

 

Startled, I looked up from my medical text and stared at Holmes, who was pacing up and down in front of the fireplace. For once, I couldn't even guess what his problem was. We were back from Lyon since a couple of weeks and Holmes had solved three cases in that time. The last one - a robbery - had been wrapped up yesterday and Holmes usually didn't feel restless, so soon, after a successful investigation. If my friend had laid down on the couch and complained about being bored - or had used cocaine to stimulate his mind - I wouldn't have been surprised. A little disappointed, yes, but not surprised. But his agitated mood was new and I didn't know how to react to it. Still, it was certainly nice to follow the movement of his long legs as Holmes moved three steps, only to turn around and walk in the other direction. His behind stretched against his trousers with every step - since it wasn't hidden by a jacket - and I could only imagine how firm his buttocks would feel in my hands. And Holmes' legs... I didn't even have to imagine how they looked naked, since I had wrapped compressions around them to bring Holmes' fever down. God, I was getting carried away and Holmes would notice it, if I didn't get myself back under control. 

 

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the medical text and started on a paragraph about pain therapy with morphine, when the paper was snatched away from me. "Holmes!" I protested as he threw the essay on the table. His piercing blue gaze was focused on me and I fidgeted nervously in my armchair as his expression turned to one of disappointment.

 

For Christ's sake, Holmes couldn't have guessed on my feelings for him, could he? Cold sweat prickled on the back of my neck as I tried to return Holmes' gaze without flinching away. It would be terrible if Holmes had found out about my well hidden secret just now. A few more weeks - a couple of months at the most - and I would have certainly been able to move out of the flat. Afterwards, Holmes wouldn't have had as many chances to analyze me and it would be almost impossible - even for him - to catch me by surprise, when my thoughts were drifting in dangerous directions.

 

"When did you intend to tell me that you planned to move out, Watson?"

 

Shit!

 

I flinched as Holmes glared silently down at me and wished that I weren't sitting in my armchair, right now. It was one thing to have an argument with Holmes, when we were eye to eye, but I felt like a schoolboy from the way he was regarding me from above. Of course, I could get up and minimize the difference in height, but that wouldn't change the fact that Holmes had an advantage in the morals department. After all, I should have informed him of my plans to move out right away, instead of leaving it to him to find out for himself. "How do you know?" I asked to play down my embarrassment and fear, instead of answering Holmes` questions.

 

Yes, fear... I was afraid of where this conversation would lead and that I would give myself away in its wake. If that happened... Well, Holmes wouldn`t need me to explain anything to him anymore. He would certainly throw me out of the flat right away and...

 

"If you wanted to keep it a secret," Holmes marched to my desk and fished out a stack of older newspapers to throw at my feet. "Then you shouldn't have encircled the announcements of people searching for a flatmate in central London. Do you have already met with someone?" I blinked up at Holmes, surprised that he hadn't deducted it by himself, but shook my head nonetheless. "No, but I have two appointments next week and..."

 

A harsh gesture with his hand from Holmes silenced me as my friend resumed his pacing once more and only stopped for his pipe to take a deep inhalation. Minutes ticked by - with Holmes pacing and smoking - and I didn't dare to say anything, since I feared an explosion of apocalyptical degree if I so much as opened my mouth. After half an hour, I thought about lighting a cigarette as well, when Holmes put his pipe on the mantelpiece and leaned against the frame. The fury had melted from his face and his expression was rather tired as his eyes met mine. "Why, Watson?" Defeat resonated in Holmes` voice. "What did I do to drive you away? Is it me playing the violin at night? I can stop that if you wish. Or are you wary of my chemical experiments? We could make a compromise and I would only indulge in more dangerous ones when you are at your club. Or is it," Holmes' eyes flickered to the rug. "The cocaine? I know that you don't like it, when I use it, but I could..."

 

"No," I shook my head vehemently, not wanting to listen to the proof of how much Holmes wanted me to stay at Baker Street. It only served to make the whole situation harder for me, although I was aware that it was the only possibly solution. "It has nothing to do with your usual habits. I'm quite used to them by now... and they don't bother me."

 

A second later, I realised how stupid that reply was. I could have used Holmes' use of cocaine or some other disturbing habit of his to explain my decision to leave Baker Street, instead... I had given my friend a puzzle to solve. "If nothing I do on a regular basis, bothers you then why..." Bewilderment was replaced by some kind of realisation as his eyes widened slightly and I cringed in my armchair. "Watson," My head jerked up as Holmes leaned over my sitting form - his hands placed on the armrests of the chair - as he gazed at me. "Did I... When I was ill," Holmes licked his lips nervously - something he had never done before - and continued speaking. "Did I do anything to offend you?"

 

I averted my eyes and prayed to God that I wasn't blushing as I murmured: "Why do you think that?"

 

Of course, my actions and the tone of my voice gave the truth away and out of the corner of my eye I saw Holmes nodding to himself. "So, I did do something, then. I should have realised it sooner, you are behaving strangely ever since we came back from Lyon." A shaky exhale followed Holmes' words. "I recall that I had a rather violent dream one night," Holmes' fingers thrummed on the leather cushion. "Did I hurt you, Watson?" My friend's voice sounded utterly devasted as he mentioned that possibility. "If I did, believe me that I didn`t mean to, I would never want to hurt you and..."

 

"No," I interrupted Holmes and after peeking up at his confused gaze, I felt the need to elaborate. "You didn't hurt." A second passed until my words had sunk in and Holmes jumped up to tear at his hair. "Then what did I..."

 

"You called me John."

 

Holmes stopped abruptly in his motion, his whole body going completely still - except for his eyes which were blinking furiously at me. His mouth formed a perfect O as his mind mulled my words over. "I didn't," Holmes clenched his fists at his side and stared past my head at a point at the wall. "You don't have to think anything of it, my dear chap. I can't remember the dream anymore, but it probably has something to do with the events that played out in it. It's not..."

 

"You kissed me."

 

The words were out before I could stop them. I had never intended to give Holmes that piece of information. Surely, it would be easy for him to piece together why such a simple contact of lips was affecting me so much. Preparing myself for the disgust I was certainly about to see in his face, I looked in his direction. Holmes' body was still completely motionless, but his face had gone incredible pale. Probably even paler than when he had been ill and for a second I feared that he would keel over. Indeed, Holmes all but collapsed in his armchair and brought a trembling hand to his face.

 

"I see." Blue eyes flashed me a desperate look, before they stared back in Holmes' lap. I waited for him to say something else. Really, that wasn`t the reaction I had anticipated and I didn`t understand Holmes' behavior one bit. It was impossible that my friend - did he still think of me as a friend - hadn't yet concluded what all the clues I had given him meant, taken together. Obviously, I was wrong on that accord, since Holmes` next words just managed to confuse me even more. "It won't make you stay, if I assure you that nothing like this is ever going to happen again? That nothing would have happened in the first place, if my illness hadn't robbed me of the control of my actions?" Holmes glanced back up at me and whatever he read in my eyes, made him sigh in defeat. "No, of course, it won't matter." A humorless laugh escaped past his lips and bitterness entered his voice as he kept on speaking - more to himself than to me. "What do dozens of adventures together count, if you are suddenly confronted with the perverse nature of your friend? Of course, you have to move out, Watson." Holmes clenched his hands together in his lap. "No one could ask of you to stay with me, after you have learned of my unnatural inclinations towards you. It would destroy your reputation if word of it got around and even if it didn't," Holmes gulped down a large amount of air. "You don't feel save around me any longer. You can't stand the sight of me and..."

 

"No, Holmes!" This time, I jumped up from my chair and moved to stand in front of the fireplace, although my whole body itched to move closer to Holmes. I didn't know what was going on in his head, but it was obvious that - probably for the first time in his life - my friend had come to a complete wrong conclusion. And as was natural for him, Holmes wasn`t able to let go of it. "Of course, you will tell me that we will still... work on cases together and maybe you will even... help me with another one, but... Soon, you will change to the other side of the road when you see me. You won't greet me anymore, because you are too disgusted about my perverse feelings for you. The feelings of an invert... a sodomite... a bent..."

 

"Stop!" My eyes were wide as I stared at Holmes in wonder, his words finally starting to make sense, although they were still unbelievable. The blood thrummed in my veins and its rush made me dizzy. I grabbed the frame of the fireplace as shivers ran down my spine and sent a tremor through my bad leg. Even when drunk, I had never felt so lightheaded as in this moment as every piece fell into place and a small smile turned up the corner of my lips. "You are an idiot, Holmes." Somehow, my friend managed to look affronted and desperate at the same time and I hurried to put his mind at ease. I didn't like to see him like that - helpless and devasted. "And I'm an idiot as well." I shook my head at myself and scolded me inwardly for my own stupidity. My fear had made me come to the wrong conclusion - a conclusion that could have been disastrous to my friendship with Holmes - if our conversation had gone differently in any way. "I never thought that you were... an invert."

 

Holmes furrowed his brow at that. A thoughtful expression passed over his face, before it was replaced by one of despair again. "I don't know how you didn't think that after I," he made a vague gesture to his lips that indicated he was referring to the kiss. "But now you know."

 

I nodded, unable to force the smile from my face as I took a step towards Holmes. "Yes, now I know and I'm happy that I know it, otherwise I would have left the flat."

 

I couldn't recall a time when my friend had looked completely at his wits end, but somehow I had managed to place that look on his face. "You wanted to leave the flat, because you though I wasn't... interested in men and you won`t leave it now that you know... you don't make sense, Watson!"

 

It would have been interesting to watch Holmes' face a little longer, since I had never seen so many emotions passing over his features in such a short amount of time - despair, anger, confusion, hope - but I decided against it. Instead, I crossed the final steps between us and leaned down over Holmes' sitting form.

 

There was so much hope in his blue eyes that it took my breath away, before I closed the final inches between our faces. Our lips met in a tender kiss. A sweet contact of skin against skin as I angled my face to the left to feel more of Holmes. A whoosh of breath tickled my nose as Holmes exhaled heavily and moved his mouth against mine. Stubble scratched against my chin - as I nipped lightly at Holmes lower lip - and the sensation was as new as it was welcome. It was evidence that this - whatever it was - meant something different than my numerous encounters with people before. I had kissed women and felt their soft lips against my own, but it had only ever been a prelude to something else. There hadn't been deeper feelings involved. I had never before kissed a man - you just skipped that part in the army and went straight to the important business.

 

This time though, when Holmes' arms reached around my back and I had to hold onto the armrests of the chair to keep my balance, the kiss didn`t just feel like a prelude to more intimate activities. Maybe, it was - Dear God, how I hoped it would lead to something more - but it didn't have to. This kiss had the entitlement to exist on its own, without any expectations attached to it.

 

Warmth spread through my chest at that thought and suddenly I didn't want the kiss to end. As long as Holmes' and my lips were pressed together, there was no place for any misunderstandings. As long as we couldn't speak, we couldn't argue. As long as I was connected to him in this way, I didn't have to fear to lose him. These thoughts tumbled through my mind as Holmes` tongue suddenly flickered out and licked at my upper lip, tickling the underside of my moustache. A small moan echoed through the room and I wasn't sure who of us had made the noise as I opened my mouth to Holmes` tentative ministrations. He accepted the invitation happily, his tongue peeping into my mouth shyly at first, before exploring in earnest. An animalistic groan was torn from my throat as our tongues met in an exotic kind of mating dance. Holmes gripped me harder, his fingernails digging into my back as he drew me closer, panting as much as I did as we kissed open mouthed.

 

We could have spent all evening like this, if my leg hadn't protested against the uncomfortable position I had forced it in for far too long. It buckled without so much as a premonition and a gasp was torn from my lips as I fell forwards. I wasn't sure if it was luck or misfortune that I could only fall towards Holmes as I connected with his body. A grunt sounded from him as I landed half on top of him - spread over his lap, with my knees on either side of his legs - and grabbed the backrest above his head for balance.

 

"I didn't expect you to be so... wild, my dear boy." An amused note resonated in Holmes` voice. "Sorry," I whispered and cursed my leg as I sat up, mortified at my lack of grace. But when I tried to get up, Holmes' arms tightened around my back. "Don't. I rather like it like this... if you are amenable of course?" 

 

Holmes' expression was clouded by a lingering trace of uncertainty, but I was fast to kiss the doubt away. "I`m very amenable," I informed him and stroked his cheek gently. Holmes leaned into the touch like he had done, when the fever had stripped him of his senses. This thought brought me back to the start of our dilemma and I felt the need to address the topic one last time to clear the air of all possible misunderstandings. "So, just to be on the same page. You are interested in men, specifically in me and your feelings are beyond the mere physical need for carnal activities?"

 

Holmes snorted, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do you truly believe, Watson, that I would have even hinted at my interest in you if it was purely physical? You know exactly what I think of bodily needs."

 

I rolled my eyes at that, before glancing meaningfully at his lap, where a bulge had formed in his trousers. "It seems like your body is very clear on his needs for once." I didn't comment on the part about him having deeper feelings for me. Holmes wasn`t one to speak about his emotions and I guessed that this confession was as much as I would ever get from him... and with that, I was content.

 

"You can't hide your attraction, either, my dear boy." My mouth flew open in a surprised - but thankfully silent - scream as one of Holmes` hands rubbed at my crotch through my trousers. More blood rushed south and I felt my manhood harden farther against the fabric of my pants. "Holmes," I warned him through grinded teeth. Experiencing an erection, while still wearing one`s pants, wasn`t very comfortable and I didn`t intend on making it worse by allowing my friend to keep teasing me.

 

"My apologizes, my dear chap," Holmes' hand came to rest on my knee as he grinned cheekily at me. "I'm sure we can find a better solution - and location - for our arousals, but you have to answer a question first." At this point, when Holmes pressed his forehead against mine, his thumb drawing circles on my thigh and his breath tickling my face, I would have told him everything. No secret would have been too sacred not to give away to him. "How did you make the connection that I wasn`t interested in you, when I kissed you and why did you want to leave then?"

 

"These are two questions," I murmured, only to downplay my embarrassment at my stupid miscalculation. "Sometimes, people do things they don`t want, when they are influenced by a fever and I thought," My cheeks flushed as I listened to myself and realised how stupid my reasoning sounded. Nevertheless, I carried on. "I thought that you didn't really want to kiss me, but I wanted you to want to kiss me and... I couldn't forget the kiss and whenever I saw you..." I shrugged helplessly, not sure if I had explained myself well enough. Eloquence was rather Holmes` area and I was better at letting actions speak for me.

 

Luckily, a quick kiss to my cheek, convinced me that I had somehow managed to get my point across as did the smile Holmes sent my way. "I wouldn't have assumed that you would think around so many edges. You are still able to surprise me, Watson."

 

"John."

 

Confusion was mirrored in his eyes once more. "You can call me John when we are at home. I know that you want to."

 

The confusion was replaced by wonder at my words and Holmes expressed his happiness with a deep kiss that would have led to more intimate actions if our position on the armchair hadn`t been so uncomfortable. 

 

"Shall we... retire to my bedroom." It was more a suggestion than a question and I didn't lose any time scrambling to my feet and extending my hand to Holmes. He accepted it with a smile as he intertwined our fingers and led the way to his bedroom.

 

OOO

 

I had never been in Holmes' room before. Strange, when I thought about how often he had barged into mine to rouse me in the early morning hours - or in the middle of the night. Still, it was like I had expected it to be. Most of the floor was covered with papers and books. Instead of flowers, the skeleton of lizard sat on his window sill and test tubes were placed on the only chair in the room. For all the chaos in Holmes' room, his bed was neatly made and I couldn`t help but notice that it was larger than a single bed. My heart started pointing faster as I imagined what we could do in it. There were so many things I wanted to experience with Holmes that I didn`t even know where to start.

 

"Taking off your clothes would be a good start," Holmes' amused voice sounded behind me and I almost jumped at the closeness. "Your train of thought was rather obvious, my dear boy." His arms encircled me from behind as Holmes drew me back against his body... his naked body. A shaky breath was pressed from my lungs as I realised that Holmes had used the time - I had been busy cataloging his room - to get rid of his clothes. His body heat seeped through my clothes and sent thrills of anticipation through my body as Holmes' fingers started to work the buttons on my shirt loose.

 

Dear God, how much I wanted to turn around and look at Holmes. I had only gotten glimpses of his body so far and I was certain that he was marvelous. But when I tried to turn around, Holmes' grip held me in place and a small chuckle sounded in my ear. "Patience... John."

 

My name, spoken in his voice, fanned my arousal farther as did Holmes' fingers when they stroked over the - now exposed - skin of my chest. They played with the thick curls of my chest hair, teased my nipples until they were almost painfully hard and then moved to the scar on my shoulder. I tensed when Holmes' index finger followed the lines of my destroyed flesh, where the scalpels of the doctors had cut the bullet out of my shoulder. After all these years I was still self-conscious about this ugly part of my body. Probably because all the people I had been with since my return to England - three women and a man - had turned away in disgust, when they had seen my injury. I didn't believe Holmes to be disgusted by it, since he wasn't faint hearted like most civilians, but even he wouldn't be able to argue that the scar was rather ugly.

 

"Beautiful!" Soft lips pressed against the destroyed flesh of my shoulder, a tongue following the lines to my collarbone.

 

"You are joking," I couldn't stop myself from saying, but Holmes only hummed in the negative and pressing one last kiss to my shoulder, before taking a step back. My shirt fell to the floor as he stripped it off me. "No, your scar is beautiful. I rather like it." His arms encircled me once more and I realised too late that I had missed my chance to turn around as Holmes started to work on my belt.

 

"You can't be serious," I argued, but without any heat in it. Holmes' erect manhood was still pressed against my back and that was at least proof enough that he wasn`t put off by my injury. Besides, it was rather distracting when my belt joined my shirt on the floor and his fingers wandered to the buttons of my trousers. My erection was throbbing eagerly in its prison of fabric and I almost missed Holmes' reply, when his fingers hooked under my waistband, with the promise of relief. "How can I not be serious, when this scar is the reason that you are with me now."

 

His answer was so unexpected - so sentimental - that I forgot how to breath for a second as Holmes pushed my trousers and pants down to my thighs. "You are magnificent, John."

 

I wasn't able to formulate an answer as Holmes' hands started running over my body once more. This time, there weren`t any barriers left and soon his fingers were ghosting over my proud erection. I stared down at his long, pale fingers against my swollen and - partly - red manhood and an undignified moan escaped my lips.

 

"I wanted to do that for a long time, John." Holmes' lips nuzzled on my neck as he gave my erection an experimental stroke. "I have imagine how you would react when I had my hands on your cock. What you would do when I sucked you down and how you would feel, when you," his mouth wandered to my ear. "Were inside me."

 

"God," I groaned and almost stumbled over my trousers that were still slung around my ankles as I leaned back against Holmes.

 

"Bed." My friend decided, after teasing my erection once more and then letting go of me. I hurriedly kicked of my trousers and got rid of my socks, before I followed Holmes' lead... only to stop in front of the bed... awestruck.

 

Holmes had used the time, I had needed to get rid of my remaining clothes, to drape himself on the bed - and he had done a marvelous job of it. My friend was lying on his side, head propped up on one hand and his long legs draped over one another so that the gaze of the observer - my gaze - was unwillingly - or not - drawn to his proud erection that rose from among dark curls. More blood rushed downwards to pool in my loins and I wondered how I was still able to stand, while such an arousal coursed through my body.

 

Dear God, but Holmes was perfect! His long legs - bawdily long for a man - were muscular from his chases through London. Naturally, there were hairs on his legs, not enough to categorize them as hairy, but just so much that they appeared utterly masculine. My mind supplied me with scenarios of how it would feel if they were wrapped around my hips, but I pushed that thought away as my erection gave an interested throb. If I wasn't careful, I would come alone from watching Holmes and how humiliating would that be? Still, I couldn't stop my gaze from wandering to Holmes' erect length - long and throbbing - and I imagined how he was going to react when I touched it or when I...

 

"John," Holmes' voice interrupted my musings and when I looked up, I noticed a faint blush on his cheeks that made him look even more attractive. "Of course, you can stand there all night and imagine what we could do together, but if you are interested in doing anything for real..." He glanced meaningfully at the mattress and I coughed self-consciously as I crossed the space to the bed and laid down next to my friend. "Sorry," I murmured as my fingers traced through his hair and over his cheekbones. "But you are just so fucking beautiful like that... and you know it."

 

Fascinated, I watched as the blush on Holmes` cheeks intensified farther. "You are beautiful, Holmes, you know." It was just to make a point, but the shy smile of my friend, made me wonder if someone had ever bothered to tell Holmes just how awesome he was. Well, if I were to be the first in that regard, I would make sure that he heard it as often as possible from now on.

 

"You are very beautiful yourself, John." There wasn't time to protest that statement - and point out that I wasn't anything like Holmes - as my friend stifled my forthcoming arguments with his lips. I certainly didn`t mind that sort of distraction and closed the last inches between our bodies.

 

A groan was forced from my throat as skin was pressed against skin for the first time. Our kiss grew wilder - deeper - with the first intimate contact and soon hands were roaming everywhere. My fingers traced Holmes' back, noting scars that he had gained at some point in his life, and wondering what stories were connected to them. I intended to hear them all. Not to feel angry at whoever had left a mark on Holmes' skin or to feel sorry that I hadn't been there to protect him from harm. No, it was just the primal wish to learn everything about Holmes, to know him like no one else did. From the way, Holmes' fingers moved over my back and my front - tracing lines and humming into the kiss - the wish was mutual. Nevertheless, storytelling would have to wait until another time, since other activities were on the forefront of my mind at the moment. Activities, which came even more into focus as Holmes grabbed my behind and drew me against him, rubbing our erections effectively together.

 

"Holmes!" I gasped to take a much needed breath, even as I moved my hips eagerly to get more of that wonderful friction.

 

"Sherlock," my friend whispered against my neck and it took me a moment to understand what he was asking of me, but when I did, it increased my arousal even farther. I had never allowed myself to think of Holmes by his Christian name - out of fear of letting it slip at an inappropriate time - but it wouldn`t be a hardship to call him that, while in bed.

 

"Sherlock," I breathed against his ear and I felt a shudder running through his body at my intimate use of his name.

 

"Oh John!"

 

He kissed me again.

 

Everything became a bit frantic afterwards as we moved against each other, our erections brushing together every so often and our lips meeting in a wild intimation of kisses. Desire surged through my veins and left me gasping and moaning in Holmes' mouth as I bathed in the feeling of our mutual enjoyment. The friction wasn't enough to bring me to orgasm - and neither was it for Holmes as far as I was able to tell - but it was still very satisfying. For a second I wondered how I could find something satisfying didn't bring me physical fulfillment, when that had always been my goal when being with a lover. Then, my name fell in a moan from Holmes' lips and I had my answer. It was because of whom I was with, everything was perfect, when I was with Holmes. Though, at this point, I wasn't aware that this was merely the beginning.

 

Suddenly, Holmes moved away from me and I protested with a whine and reached for him again, but my friend only laughed. "Patience, John, it shall not be your harm."

 

Actually, it only took Holmes a few seconds to retrieve a pot from his nightstand, before he laid down next to me again, but it appeared much longer to me. Part of it was due to how much more aware I became of my throbbing erection and my need for release in his brief absence. Therefore, I groaned in disappointment when Holmes didn't reach for me again, but instead held up the pot to me. "My dear boy, please take a second to look at this and then decide if your disappointment is truly well-placed."

I rolled my eyes, but did as Holmes had asked. It was a simple pot, filled with... petroleum jelly. My heart skipped a beat, only to increase its speed as the implications of the lubricant came to my mind. Of course, I was aware that it could be used for all kind of carnal activities, but certainly Holmes wouldn't behave so smug if it wasn't for...

 

"I want you inside me, John." The words were all but purred and I was suddenly glad that the time of my youth lay years behind me. Otherwise I would have come then and there from just that promise alone. I spared a thought to my humiliating first time with a female acquaintance, which had ended in disappointment for both of us as I hadn't been able to deliver what I had promised. My nerves had pushed me over the edge of climax, before I had even managed to get inside her. It wasn't a pleasurable memory, but it brought something else to the forefront of my mind. Something that hadn't seemed important until now, but...

 

"Of course, you don't have to, if you don't want to."

 

Startled, my gaze flew to Holmes, who was fidgeting with the pot in his hands. Obviously, he had misinterpreted my pensive gaze. For a second I entertained the thought of reassuring him and just going ahead, but that could end in a disaster and the last thing on my mind was hurting my friend. So, heat rushing to my face, while I averted my eyes, I confessed quietly: "I have never had this kind of... intimacy with men before."

 

"Now adventurous woman either?" I shook my head at the question, feeling like a complete idiot, as Holmes remained silent for some time. Certainly, he had changed his mind now and wouldn't allow an amateur...

 

"Well, there is a first time for everything... if you aren't opposed to it, of course." Holmes' voice sounded playful, instead of mocking, and I dared looking up at him again. Blue eyes were sparkling brilliantly as they met mine and on a whim, I grabbed his neck and drew him close for a kiss. The fierceness of our kiss, brought my arousal - which had been dimmed a little during our conversation - back full force and we were both panting by the time we broke apart.

 

"I take that to mean that you are thrilled at the prospect of learning something new, my dear chap." Grinning, Holmes leaned back against the headboard and spread his legs so that his most private parts were completely bared. "I'm sure you are a quick learner, John." I only had time for one confused blink with my eyes, before Holmes dipped his fingers in the pot of petroleum jelly and reached down between his legs.

 

My eyes widened and I scrambled to my knees and between the long legs of my friend to watch him prepare himself. His long fingers circled his opening, while he spread his cheeks with his other hand. Of course, I knew the theory behind anal intercourse, but watching the preparations like that... was highly arousing. Holmes' index finger dipped into his hole, wriggling a little as he worked the ring of muscle loose, before sinking into his body without much resistance. My eyes were glued to the spot were Holmes' finger moved in and out of his own body, stretching in all directions as moans fell from the lips of his owner.

 

"Ah!" 

 

Holmes' hips buckled off the bed as his finger pushed into himself more forcefully. Prostate, the doctor in me supplied, but the male part of me wasn't interested in medical analysis, but only in being part of Holmes' pleasure. Without thinking twice, I grabbed for the petroleum jelly and smeared my fingers with it, before reaching out for Holmes. A startled gasp echoed from above as I parted his cheeks wider with one hand and breached his hole with one of my own fingers. My gaze flew up to his at once, wanting to make sure that I hadn't hurt him with my sudden action, but the question died on my lips as I took in the wanton picture of my friend. Face and chest were attractively flushed. Lips swollen from kissing. Hair disheveled and pupils dilated with desire. He looked beautiful... and ready to be bedded!

 

I had to avert my eyes to get the wild thrumming of my heart back under control and my gaze landed on his throbbing - and leaking - manhood that was only a few inches away from my face. A proper blowjob was out of the questions, since I didn't have a free hand to hold him, but I still leaned towards Holmes' manhood and flickered my tongue out.

 

"God... John!"

 

I grinned and did it again, pressing my finger deeper into him at the same time and feeling Holmes' own finger next to mine in his thigh hole. My eyes dropped down to where our fingers were inserted in Holmes' body and my erection gave a wanton throb at that picture. Nevertheless, I wasn't far enough gone to be in a hurry yet and I stretched my finger inside Holmes, nudging his own with it and sucking on the head of his erection at the same time.

 

"John... Ah, you are a... wicked man!"

 

I chuckled and repeated my actions numerous times, until Holmes gasped: "Enough!" And withdrew his own finger from within himself. I followed his example and the next second I found myself on my back, with Holmes straddling my lap, his stormy gaze boring into mine. "You astonish me, time and time again, John!" Holmes' deep baritone sent shivers down my spine. "I'll never know your limits, my dear boy."

 

For my part, a reply wasn't possible as Holmes stroked my erection with his palm and smeared the remaining petroleum jelly on my length. I couldn't remember a time before, when I had been so eager to join my body with someone and yet, I kept myself still - as still as humanly possible - as Holmes' pointed my shaft at his opening and sank slowly down onto it. The muscles in my abdomen clenched with the effort of keeping my hips still, instead of thrusting up and taking Holmes in one stroke. But that, I was well aware, would bring my friend more pain than pleasure and so I bit down on my lower lip as Holmes' heat enfolded me inch by inch. His own face was contorted with concentration, dark eyes trained on my face, as he sank down on my lap - joining our bodies in the most intimate way.

 

Finally, after countless deep breaths, Holmes had taken my full length and I would never forget the wonder that filled his gaze at that as he looked at me. "John, you feel," Holmes moved his hips tentatively and sighed. "Awesome!"

 

A deep, raw groan was my only answer as Holmes moved his hips again. His tight heat surrounded my length on all sides and I was soon reduced to a moaning and begging mess as Holmes impaled himself on my manhood over and over again. I met his movements, thrusting upwards as best as I could and soon Holmes' equally needy noises filled our bedroom. I spared a single thought to Mrs. Hudson, before remembering that she had mentioned going out this evening, before my sole focus became Holmes again.

 

He was incredible! Sweat rolled down his neck, over his collarbones, and down his chest as he rode me like a professional. His erect manhood popped up and down with every movement, already leaking profoundly and I propped myself up on one elbow to reach for it.

 

"Jo...oohn!"

 

Holmes threw his head back, his vulnerable throat exposed and his eyes closed in ecstasy as my hand closed around his length. I teased its head with the tip of my finger, then stroking it - with less finesse than I had liked - as best as possible in the position I was in. It was enough to undo Holmes completely as his thrust grew more frantic, just as his body started constricting around me. It almost sent me over the edge, but I hung onto my resolve to see Holmes' coming first, digging my toes into the sheets and biting down on my lower lip until I tasted blood as my friend fell apart on top of me. My efforts were well worth the picture Holmes made as he finally reached his peak. His whole body got rigid on top of me as his mouth opened in a silent scream as his semen sputtered between us.

 

"John!" My name was almost a sob as his ejaculation painted both our stomachs with its sticky mess. Up to that point I had been able to keep my own needs at bay, but that wasn't possible anymore. I grabbed Holmes' waist and swung my leg around to reverse our positions. Clouded, blue eyes - still in the haze of orgasm - smiled up at me and I drove into Holmes' body. Once, twice... at the third thrust I stiffened as the waves of my orgasm crashed around me and I spilled myself in my friend.

 

"Sherl... Sherlock!" Panting and shaking, I fell forwards, thankfully able to catch most of my weight on my arms as not to crash on Holmes.

 

Our labored breathing was the only noise heard in the room for the next couple of minutes, until my mind kicked back into gear. Holmes and I were still joined in the most intimate way and I extracted my - now mostly soft - penis carefully from him. The movement earned me a wince from Holmes and I was at his side in an instant.

 

"Did I hurt you?" Tenderly, I stroked his cheek as he turned on his side to face me.

 

"No, you didn't."

 

I scrunched my face up in disbelief, well aware how rough I had been towards the end. "Are you sure?" My hand reached down our bodies and dipped between his cheeks, where my release was dripping out of his hole. Possessiveness and want sent down a thrill at that discovery and I took a shuddering breath as I smeared my own semen between his cheeks.

 

"John!"

 

My head jerked up to be treated to the sigh of Holmes' deeply blushed face. "Sorry." I coughed as I withdrew my hand and settled it on top of his hipbone. "It`s alright, that was... perfect and any soreness..."

 

"So, you are sore!"

 

I glared at Holmes and scolded myself at the same time for being so thoughtless, when a finger under my chin forced my head up and my eyes locked with Holmes'. "I'm... moved that you are so worried about me, but rest assured, John," Slightly chapped lips pressed against mine in a chaste kiss. "I`ll be fine and the soreness will probably be gone in the morning. It's just part of it and as long as you don't want to indulge in this activities every day, there is nothing to worry about."

 

Slowly, I exhaled and nodded, bringing my arm around Holmes' back and drawing him close, until our chests were flush together and our noses almost touching. "Maybe I'll... I might want to try..." I cursed myself for my lack of eloquence and then just blurted out the realisation to which I had just come, mere seconds ago. "I want you inside me, as well... one day."

 

This time, our kiss wasn't chaste as we moved our lips in tandem and it felt like Holmes was about to devour me. Especially, when he licked at my split lip and a throaty moan vibrated against my mouth as he tasted my blood. Any other man would have been disgusted by that, but I felt honored that my brilliant friend seemed to want every part of me.

 

Our kiss grew lazy afterwards, until we were cuddled together - legs intertwined, arms around each other's backs and noses nuzzled against one another - and only exchanging brief peeks as post-coital sleepiness crawled up on both of us. A sticky mess was on our chests and I was aware that we would both itch terribly in the morning, but I was much too tired to care, to make no mention of much too content in Holmes' arms to get up and get wet flannel. Still, it would certainly be wiser...

 

I made a half-hearted attempt at getting up, but Holmes only held me tighter. "Stay, John! Stay!"

 

Our gazes met and even I was able to deduce from the tenderness in his eyes that he meant more by these words than was obvious. Obediently, I snuggled more comfortably against him, my whisper in his ear. 

 

"Always!"


End file.
